Chapter Seven
Mason
“Don’t you find it weird that she came in when we were there and the password on her computer has changed?”
She takes a sip of her wine as she looks at the three files open in front of her. I can see the joy in her face as she works through them. She really loves what she does and it’s written all over her face.
“No, I don’t. I know she has a perfectly good explanation for the password. And we have a huge campaign releasing in less than two weeks for my new line of handbags and accessories, so I don’t think it’s weird that she came back to work. Sarah’s a workaholic like me. It’s probably why we work so well together.”
“And you don’t think it is at all odd that she gave up a flourishing modeling career to run your business?”
“She’s my partner,” she says, frustrated with my questioning.
“How much of the company does she own?”
“Thirty-five percent.”
“So, she’s not a fifty-fifty partner?”
“No. I started the company by myself. I had worked it alone for a year before I brought her on. I didn’t make her my partner until about three or so years ago.” She takes another sip of wine. The red stains her lips and makes my dick twitch.
“What made you make her a partner?”
“She said she wanted out of modeling. I wasn’t ready to give it up. Because of that, I couldn’t be at the office every day. It made sense. She loved the brand and wanted to help me grow it.”
I rub my chin, not loving her explanation. The timing of when Sarah became a partner coincided with the first of the camera recordings. It seems a little too convenient to me, but I’ll keep that thought to myself until I have more.
“I want to let Harry in on what’s going on.” I brace myself for her explosion.
“No,” she responds but doesn’t look at me.
“Just hear me out.” God, she’s infuriating. “Harry already knows something is going on. He’s not an idiot and I could use his eyes and ears. You trust him more than you trust anyone else and I’ve already eliminated him from my list of suspects.”
Her head snaps up. “What do you mean, your list of suspects?”
I roll my eyes, exasperated with her question. “Melinda, come on. Everyone is on the list until I’m sure they have nothing to do with the blackmail, and that includes your best friend Sarah.”
She takes another sip of wine and I endure a long pause. “You’re wrong about her. She would never do anything to hurt me.”
“I hope you’re right. Now, back to Harry.”
“How much does he need to know?” I can see the fear in her eyes.
“Everything.”
“No! Oh, my God. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“He doesn’t need to know details of the pictures or the video. I’m sure he can draw some sort of conclusion on his own, but I want him to know about the blackmail and what you’re blackmailed with. He’s ex-military and I know he can help.”
I watch her struggle with my proposal.
“Fine,” she finally agrees.
“Thank you. I promise you, he will be an asset to this case.”
“I know he will. I’m merely embarrassed.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Melinda. Having sex isn’t a crime. Unknowingly being recorded while having sex is.”
She flinches at my words. I know they hurt, but they’re true. She is the victim here and she has to stop beating herself up for something she had no control over.
“I’ll let you work. I’ll call Harry.”
She purses her lips as if to brace herself against the reality of letting someone else in on her secret.
Thirty minutes later, I walk into the living room to find her near the windows, looking out over the Park as she twirls a strand of her hair.
“What did he say?” Her voice sounds sad.
“He has a few suggestions and will look into a few things. Who knew he was a hacker?” I chuckle at the memory of him telling me that surprising fact. “He knew something bigger than a park mugging was going on. Like I said, the man’s smart.”
I keep my distance, unsure if she’s feisty and wants to beat the shit out of me again. She’s silent and keeps her back to me.
“Are you okay?”
“No. Not really. Ryan called, and I hated lying to him. I know he knows I am, and it kills me. We never lie to each other. But I don’t want him to know the truth. It would kill him. Plus, he’d be on the first flight here to murder whoever is doing this to me. I told him not to come next week.”
I take a step closer.
“He’d have to get in line behind me.”
“I told him I was in good hands and there was no need to come. He argued, but I don’t want him here. The more distance, the better until we get to the bottom of this.”
I rub my hands up and down her arms to comfort her.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” I vow.
Melinda
I shouldn’t like the way his hands feel on me as much as I do, but I can’t help it. It’s beginning to scare me how much I like the feel of them on my skin. My heart pumps faster and a riot of emotions swirl through my body.
“I have an event next week that I can’t miss.”
He stills, and I know he’s processing what I just said.
“No.” He steps back.
I turn briskly to face him.
“You can’t tell me no. I have a life and a career I need to get back to. I can’t stay holed up in this godforsaken hotel room forever, Mason. I want my life back.”
I watch as his jaw twitches and know he’s fighting the comment he wants to zing at me.
He cups my cheek in his hand. “I understand, but I also understand the danger you’re in. It’s not safe.”
Like a child, I stomp my foot. He raises his eyebrow in amusement, a small grin at the side of his lips.
“Don’t laugh at me.” God, I really do sound like a spoiled brat right now.
He purses his lips to bite back the laughter I know is there. With his hands lifted in surrender, he steps back. “I’m not laughing.” There’s a twinkle in his auburn eyes that hits me hard below the belt and my stomach does a little flip.
“What’s the event?” he asks in all seriousness, his thumbs looped lazily in his jeans pockets.
“It’s a kick-off party for my new campaign and I—”
“No.” He cuts me off before I can finish.
I swear this man will be the death of me. I don’t care how sexy he is or how good he is in bed, right now, I want to punch him. I do my best to keep my frustration under control, although I’m not sure how well it’s working. My fist is clenched and the pain from my fingernails digging into my palm makes me wince. I try to keep my voice steady.
“Mason, I have to go to this kick-off party. Anyone who’s anyone will be there. This is my business—my baby—and I can’t not show. I have to be there.”
He clenches his hand in a fist, then releases it. He’s obviously trying to maintain some sort of control over his temper. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation.” His voice is clipped.
That does it. All the composure I tried so hard to hold onto unravels. I step toward him and poke my finger in his chest. “Don’t tell me I don’t understand the gravity of my situation. Are you fucking kidding me? My entire life has been disrupted. Someone has videotaped me in my apartment for years—fucking years!” I’m hysterical now. “The depth of that violation runs deep. Not to mention that I’m holed up in this hotel room with you. I can’t go anywhere alone, and I have no idea who I can trust anymore. So, don’t tell me I don’t understand the gravity of my situation. I get it loud and clear.”
I step back, shaking, and know I look like a mad woman again. My heart pounds rapidly as adrenaline courses through my veins. I know I should take another step back from him. I’m still too close and he looks like he wants to murder me right now. His eyes study me, and I tremble from the intensity of his glare.
Before I know it, he grabs my hand and pulls me hard against his chest and his mouth covers mine. I know in my head I should stop this, but my brain goes to mush at his touch. The frenzy of emotions emanating from us has us almost frantic as his mouth possesses mine. On my tiptoes, I wrap my arm around his neck and yank him closer. I can’t get enough of him. His arms slide around me, and I climb to wrap my legs around his waist. Our mouths are hungry, greedy. I want him naked. I want to feel his skin on my skin. He holds me easily, strides toward the couch, and sits. I adjust myself to straddle him.
“Get undressed,” I hear myself say boldly. His arms release me to untuck his shirt. He glides it over his head and throws it on the floor. I admire his taut muscles and my hand runs instinctively over his six-pack. Mason unbuttons the front of my dress. Carefully, he helps me out of my sling and pulls the dress carefully down my arm. I’m not wearing any panties, full commando, and I hear him inhale quickly as he notices.
“Commando?” His gaze travels over my face searches my eyes.
“Almost always,” I purr.
He growls in a low, throaty tone and I can’t deny the delightful shiver of desire that courses through me. His large hand holds my face gently.
“What are you doing to me, hellcat?”
Reclaiming my lips, he crushes me to him so I have no opportunity to answer. I could ask him the same question, but my senses have short-circuited. His hands move magically over my swollen breasts. As he cups them his hands, he lowers his mouth and his tongue explores my rigid buds. I moan softly. Moving his hands slowly downward, they skim my body to rest on my thighs. His fingers scorch my skin. I desperately want more of him and I undo the button on his jeans. He helps me as I struggle with my one good hand. Deftly, he shifts me to the side, shimmies out of his jeans, and grabs a condom from his pocket.
“Always prepared…” I tease as my lips trail over his neck. I climb on top of him once he has the condom in place and welcome him into my body. The pleasure is immediate, and I shudder and throw my head back as I glide down his rock-hard manhood. The passion is pure and explosive as I ride him. Waves of ecstasy throb through me and the feeling of something comes as a surprise. The connection with Mason is deep, and I feel my defenses weakening. I wonder if he feels it too.
Sitting straighter, he penetrates me deeply. Fuck, it feels amazing. I could swear it’s like we are two missing pieces of a puzzle that finally find our fit, and that scares the living hell out of me. A tremor deep within me begins to build as I surrender completely to his seduction. He has drawn me to a height of passion and connection I have never felt before, and I don’t want that to end. Mason’s hands move effortlessly under my behind. He flips me onto my back without breaking our connection. His eyes are hooded as he meets my gaze.
“Do you feel that?” he asks and his eyes burn with desire.
I nod because my voice is caught in my throat and I’m actually afraid of admitting it out loud. He begins to move again and pumps rhythmically into me as his mouth claims mine. I surrender to him as he drains all my fears and doubts from me.
“Look at me.”
I open my eyes at his command. I’ve never seen passion burn so vividly in someone’s eyes, but there’s no doubt about the magnitude of his desire when I look at him. In a raw act of possession, his thrust grow more rapid. My body begins to vibrate with each thrust and the intensity of his gaze is almost too much for me.
“Don’t close them.” It’s as if he can read my mind.
There’s something vulnerable about the power of our bond, something more than passion and pleasure.
“Come with me.”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice as gusts of desire shake me to my core. As the hot tide rages through us, we both soar on the bursting sensations that ravage us. My body shudders with the aftershocks of our orgasms. Mason’s lips find mine, and the sweetness of his kiss makes tears sting my eyes. No one has frustrated me the way he has or has made me kick and scream like a child, and no one has brought me to heights of ecstasy and desire like this ever before. It’s like a push and pull of passion and fire, something no one else has ignited in me. It scares me to death.
Mason
I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have given in to my urge to have her again, but I can’t control myself when it comes to Melinda Morgan. Yes, she absolutely gorgeous, but there’s something else. Something so much more than her beauty. As I lay in her arms and my cock twitches within her with the aftershocks of our lovemaking still coursing through my body, I’m afraid to admit this woman has gotten under my skin. I don’t know how it happened, but she challenges me like no woman ever has.
It’s a fucking turn on when she stands up for herself and doesn’t back down from me. And it’s a turn on how quickly I can take her from rage to passion in a matter of seconds. Fuck, I’m in trouble. My number one rule has been to never get involved with a client, and I never have because most have been married. But this one is different. It’s as if she’s attached to my soul and it scares the living shit out of me.
I lift my head and search her face. I can see the quiet riot of emotions swirl within her.
“What are we doing?” she asks innocently.
I pause because I don’t want my response to come out wrong.
“Giving in to our desires,” I say and hope it doesn’t piss her off.
“Is that what this is? Desire?” She cups my cheek and rubs her thumb along the stubble on my face. I tilt my head into her touch.
“Yes.” I bite back the rest of my response. I want to tell her it’s something so much more, something so much deeper than desire, but I feel rather exposed at the revelation of my deeper feelings.
“Okay,” she responds and brushes my hair out of my face.
My eyes shift to her lips. Leaning down, I brush mine against hers and bury my face in her neck. She wraps her legs around my waist and hugs me to her bare chest. God, she feels good. I kiss her neck and lift my to look at her.
“I need to get you some food.”
She narrows her eyes at me as if she knows I’m running from the intimacy that encompasses us. After a long pause, she finally responds. “Okay.”
“No Chinese.” She chuckles as I look over the room service menu. “do you think we could go down to the restaurant? I feel cooped up.” Her eyes contain a silent plea.
I eye her warily. It’s not a good idea, but if I’m honest, I feel a little cooped up too.
“Please.” She pouts that succulent mouth of hers, which makes me want to take her back to bed and have her for dinner and dessert.
I inhale deeply and blow it out though my mouth.
“Only if you listen to me when we are down there. We can’t take any risks.”
She purses her lips as she considers this. “Okay.”
Her surrender was way too easy, and I wonder if she has something up her sleeve.
“I’ll get ready.” I watch as she skips up the stairs. She’s obviously excited to go out.
Fuck. This woman has cast a spell on me, one that won’t be easily broken, I’m afraid.
Against my better judgement, I call downstairs and have Theo reserve us a table at the Champagne Bar. I ask for a more secluded table to be out of the way of prying eyes.
Thirsty minutes later, I’m back downstairs in grey slacks, a button-down white collared shirt, and no tie because I hate them. They make me feel as though I have a noose around my neck. I pace back and forth as I wait nervously for her. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I hear her heels on the hardwood floor. Looking up, I inhale a quick breath.
Holy Mary Mother of God, I think to myself as I figuratively pick my jaw up off the floor. She is absolutely stunning. Embracing the supermodel that she is, she floats easily down the stairs. I let out a low whistle.
“You look amazing.” My eyes devour every inch of her, from her stiletto black heels to the black low-cut cocktail dress that hugs every glorious curve of her body. She redefines stunning. Her hair hangs down her back in loose flowing curls. There’s a very real possibility that we may not make it to dinner.
“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” She leans up and kisses me on my cheek but I don’t touch her. I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be able to stop myself from ripping her dress off. I’ll save that for later.
Melinda
Mason Tanner is the epitome of sexy and sensual. His bold dark eyes look at me with a secret expression only I can read. He’s ruggedly handsome and I find myself unable to stop myself from drinking him in.
“do you see something you like?” His smile is wide and makes my heart do a little flip.
“As a matter of fact, I do. But I’ll save it for dessert, if you don’t mind.” My voice sounds sultry even to my own ears.
The grin on his face grows wider and I notice a dimple I haven’t seen before.
“Shall we?” He holds his arm out for me to take. I link mine with his and he guides me to the elevators.
“My only rule for tonight is that you are to go nowhere by yourself, understand?”
“Not even the restroom?” I tease.
He furrows his brow and I know he’s serious.
“Not even the restroom.”
I don’t want to ruin the mood, so I nod my head in agreement.
He leans down and kisses the top of my head, a gesture that completely catches me off guard.
“After you,” he says and holds the elevator door open so I can step outside.
As I enter the lobby, I can feel the eyes upon us. It’s something I’m used to and can easily ignore, but I watch Mason study everyone suspiciously.
“It’s fine,” I assure him.
He grunts, takes my hand in his, and leads me to the Champagne Bar.
“Ms. Morgan. Mr. Tanner. We’re delighted to have you. Please follow me.”
We’re seated at a table in the back of the room. Mason’s back is against the wall so he has a clear view of the restaurant. Anyone coming in or going out is in his direct line of sight. I sit with my back to the restaurant. My focal point is Mason, and I honestly don’t mine. He orders a bottle of champagne and asks for some time to peruse the menu.
“So, Mason Tanner, I really don’t know anything about you.”
“What do you want to know?” His smile is cautious as if I’ve hit a nerve of some sort.
“Where are you from? What’s your family like? Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt the question and heat rushed to my cheeks. I can’t believe it fell out of my mouth.
A smile curves across his lips and his eyes grow amused.
“No, I do not have a girlfriend. I’m not the type of guy who cheats,” he responds.
“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say as I fidget in my seat.
“I was married once,” he admits.
Shocked by his confession, I meet his eyes. “You were? I don’t mean to sound so surprised, but you don’t strike me as the marrying kind.” God, I’m such an idiot. Way to put your foot in your mouth, Mel.
He waits for our server to open our champagne and pour for us. When he holds his glass up to chink with mine, I watch him carefully. “To a night out.”
“To a night out.” I continue to watch him as I take a sip from my glass.
“I’m not the marrying kind. I shouldn’t have married her but I got it in my head that I was at the age when I needed to settle down. She and I had dated for about nine months, so I thought why not? I admit, it wasn’t my best moment. We lasted maybe a year or two. I can’t even remember.” He takes another sip of his champagne and I wait for him to say more. When he doesn’t, I feel the need to know more.
“How did it end?” I swirl my glass and watch the bubble rise to the top.
“She left me when I changed careers. Said it wasn’t what she signed up for. I was relieved when she did,” he admits, his voice low and composed.
“What career change?” I decide to change the subject because I want to know more about him.
“I went from prominent attorney to private investigator.” He tilts his head and looks at me with uncertainty.
“What made you want a career change?”
His eyebrows draw together in an almost agonized expression. “I was tired of being in an office. I started the law firm about twenty years ago and my brother Gabe joined right after law school. We specialized in domestic violence cases. We’re one of the best in the country when it comes to winning cases for battered women.”
“If you were the best, why’d you give it up?”
I watch as an expression of pain crosses his face.
“You don’t have to answer that,” I whisper.
Mason
It’s not a question I would normally answer, and I never go into depth about my past, but somehow, I want to share everything with this woman sitting opposite me. I’ve turned into a complete pussy.
“Truth?” I ask and watch the shocked expression on her face as I ask the one question she reserves for those who are in her strictest confidence.
She breaks into a wide smile. “Truth,” she responds with eagerness.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. She reaches out and laces her fingers with mine, which gives me the confidence to continue.
“My dad used to beat the shit out of my mom.” I wait and allow the shock of my admission to sink in.
“I’m so sorry.” I can see the pain in her eyes as she squeezes my hand.
“Gabe doesn’t remember. He was too little. As I got older, I would try to defend her. He’d turn his anger on me. I took every blow because I knew if I had them, she didn’t.”
Tears glisten in her eyes. “Is that why you don’t sleep?”
I nod and it’s easy to confess now. “When I close my eyes, I relive those moments. They torment me. The memories of my mom and all the women I have helped haunt me. So, I’d rather be sleep deprived than have to relive that night after night. Gabe says I’ll collapse one day. He has no idea what’s wrong with me.”
“How does he not know?”
“He’s seven years younger than me and I sheltered him from it. When he was three, my mom finally left. Her sister insisted on it and took us in. Gabe only remembers the happiness of growing up. He only knows the mom who was strong and hard working.”
“Where’s your dad now?” She rubs the top of my hand with her thumb.
“I have no idea. He was arrested after her last beating. That was the last we heard of him. I was ten.”
“Jesus.” Her eyes are intense as they meet mine.
“We all have our shit,” I say and shrug it off.
“Not like that. That’s heavy shit. Have you seen anyone to deal with it?”
“I did. Nothing’s worked. I’ve tried everything to sleep. The only thing that gets me a few hours is a couple of glasses of whiskey.”
“That’s not healthy.” Her mouth frowns.
“I’ve got it handled. What about you?” I lean forward on my elbows. “Tell me about you.”
“There’s really nothing to tell.” She twirls a strand of her hair between her fingertips. When she looks up from her champagne glass, I give her a ‘come on now’ look.
She sips her champagne as she stalls for time.
“All right. Well, I grew up in a very small town in South Carolina. I had a normal, happy childhood. The only big thing that ever happened to me—or us, I should say—is when my brother lost his wife six months after Emily was born. It was terrible. I was fifteen at the time and ran home every day after school to be with her. She became my world.”
I don’t have any words for her at the moment, so I simply nod and take a sip of my champagne.
“I didn’t want to leave her when it was time for me to come here to New York City. My mom and Ryan wouldn’t hear of it. They wouldn’t allow me to give my dreams up for her. I was ecstatic when she asked to come live with me for college.”
“I can imagine.” I love the way her eyes light up when she talks about Emily. You can see the love she has for her shine in them.
“How’d you break into modeling?”
She throws her head back and chuckles.
“I knocked on every damn door I could find and didn’t give up. I was determined to make it in this city.”
I raise my glass. “And you did.”
She raises hers in response. “And so I did.” A warm smile uncurls on her lips.
“What about marriage?”
Her eyes grow wide at my question. She shakes her head a few times before she answers.
“Ah, marriage. Let’s see.” She fidgets in her chair and continues to twirl her hair. “I seem to fall for the wrong type of guys. Everyone else tends to see it but me. I wind up having my heart trampled on in the end. If you Google me, you’ll find plenty of headlines of how I’m unlucky in love.”
Our dinner arrives and the conversation pauses as the waiter sets our food before us. For a supermodel, she has a healthy appetite and isn’t afraid of food. I can’t help but smile.
“What?” she asks curiously.
“I was thinking that for the world’s most beautiful supermodel, you have a great appetite. You aren’t afraid of food.”
She tilts her head and takes a mouthful of her mashed potatoes. After she swallows, she giggles. “I’m one of those annoying people with a high metabolism. I can eat whatever I want as long as I exercise.”
I roll my eyes playfully.
“People must hate you for it.”
“Or want to blackmail me for it.” Her voice grows serious. She sets her fork down and places her hands in her lap.
“Hey, let’s not go there. Tonight is about getting away from all of that.”
I watch her wrestle with her thoughts and her hands tremble slightly as she holds onto her napkin. “It’s at the forefront of my mind at every moment. I’m terrified those pictures and videos will get out. I would be absolutely mortified. I also feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. The videos showed up, so where is the next request for money? I know it’s coming, it’s only a matter of time.” Tears brim in her eyes. She juts her chin out and steels herself against letting them fall in public.
I lean back in my chair and decide I need to share what I believe. “I think it’s an inside job.”
Her eyes grow wild and then narrow in on me.
“What do you mean, an inside job?”
“I mean someone in your office.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She picks up her champagne glass and takes a long sip with a look of disbelief on her face.
“It’s where all the evidence points to right now. How long has every employee been there?”
“Come on, Mason. No one on my staff is blackmailing me.”
“In this business, you can’t rule anyone out. Often, it’s those who are closest to you who want to take you down.”
She grabs the bottle of champagne and pours herself another glass.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Suit yourself. The truth will come out one way or another.” I shrug.